


The Prince and Princess of Summerhall

by MischaPetrovna



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Betrayal, Cheating, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Heartbreak, Infidelity, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jonerys Mentioned, Modern Royalty, This Is Sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:21:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25505110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MischaPetrovna/pseuds/MischaPetrovna
Summary: Prince Jon Targaryen took the country by surprise when he married Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell twelve years ago, and they've been made The Prince and Princess of Summerhall since they exchanged vows.The match was met with a lot of doubt for many reasons--but over the years, Westeros soon looked up to the humble royal family of four, with most subjects even leaning towards their own ascension to the throne, for the Crown Prince, Jon's older brother, Aegon still remains unmarried and childless--enjoying the pleasures of his birthright without much care for the duties that goes along with it.However--an ever present ghost that has haunted their union from the beginning has made its presence known--and is sure to rock their marriage.Can they survive this?WARNINGS:This is not like my usual fairy-tale fics... I mean, you'd have your happy ending of course, but it's torture city for our favorites till then. If you're not a fan of these types of stories, please skip! This will deal with actual infidelity and other hard themes.
Relationships: Jon Snow & Arya Stark, Jon Snow/Arya Stark
Comments: 58
Kudos: 131





	1. Inevitable

**PRESENT**

“Your Highness, the pilot has just informed me that our descent will begin shortly. We land in The Red Keep in approximately fifteen minutes.” his chief of staff, Davos Seaworth informed him.

Jon leaned back against the lush white leather recliner inside his private plane, the firm look on his face remained intact. He lifted the crystal glass in his hand without looking back at his old confidant. “Another.” he commanded. 

Davos nodded at the attendant behind Jon’s chair, who immediately poured another glass of the remaining Dalmore Scotch at the bar with a single giant cube of clear ice. 

Jon took the drink from Davos and sipped the liquid, his expression remained unchanged. He was unbothered as the old man took the seat across from him and secured the belt on his lap. 

“Princess Arya has returned to the palace, Sire. She will meet you in your office, as requested. For extra precaution however, Sam took the liberty of placing the gates under strict security. Though I should mention that it doesn’t seem to be the case.”    


“And the children?” Jon asked. 

“Princes Edward and Jace have returned with her, and are presumably in their rooms at the moment, ready to receive you when we arrive. They all had an early dinner, I am told.”    


A pregnant pause lingered as Jon downed the last of his drink, anxiety much present in his calm demeanor.  
  
“Do they know?” Jon asked quietly, his drink empty. 

“No.” Davos answered. “The Princess and her family were well protected by the Kingsguard during their stay at Winterfell--and Sir Tormund confirmed that television as well as other modern devices that could give them--undesired information  _ prematurely _ …”   
  
Jon glanced at him then, his expression darkened. 

“--was taken away. Lord Robb and his family joined them last weekend as well, and they were happy to have the company of their cousins. They have spent their days in nature, riding and hunting.” 

“Edward has been short with me on the phone, and Jace just kept asking when we could all come home.” Jon firmed. “You cannot convince me that they don’t suspect that something is amiss.” 

“I did not say that, sir.” Davos answered. “Now, if you please--we should prepare for landing.”

“Davos.” Jon pleaded, his voice stern but desperation poorly veiled.   
  
“Jon.” the old man responded. “She won’t be able to avoid your calls when you speak to her in person. You will work it out--you always have.” 

Jon wished he could believe him. 

He really did. 

**12 Years Ago**

“What?” Arya gasped. “You can’t be serious about this!” 

“That’s not how one would usually respond to a proposal.” Jon answered smugly.   


“Oh shit, pardon me.” Arya answered, feigning a shocked expression that didn’t cloud her original response. “What in the actual fuck, Jon?” 

Jon laughed heartily. “That’s not the response I was looking for, either.” 

Arya grabbed a nearby pillow and threw it at him. “Be serious.”    


“I am.”    


“No you’re not!” Arya exclaimed.    


“Yes, I am.” 

“No, you’re--”    
  
“We can go at this all day like we were children again, Arya. But please note the fact that I have just presented my mother’s engagement ring TO YOU.” Jon firmed, a smile never leaving his face.   
  
Arya stared at the box at the corner table of her family’s living room. It was a gorgeous eight carat oval-cut sapphire stone surrounded by round shape diamonds set in platinum. It was the Queen’s first engagement ring, when Jon’s father was still a crown prince. Upon their ascension as King and Queen, she has since upgraded to the late queen mother’s jewel and set this aside for her sons’ future brides per custom.

“Why do you even have that? Shouldn’t Aegon have it because he’s the heir?”    
  
“My brother has expressed preference to craft his own jewel for his engagement when it comes, and my parents consented.” Jon answered. “Besides, Mum agreed that this belonged to you.”    
  
“She knows?”    
  
“I had to ask for consent in my betrothal, as I’m still second in line to the throne. Aegon remains unmarried and childless--doesn’t look like it’ll change any time soon.”   
  
“You fucking told the Queen that you were proposing--to me?” Arya asked incredulously.    
  
“Don’t fake modesty!” Jon laughed. “You know how much she loves you. My father readily agreed too.”

“The King? You asked the King--” Arya gasped. “You’re fucking insane. I can’t with you today.” Arya turned to face the window for relief. “What has gotten into you?”   
  
“Are you going to answer me?” He whispered behind her. 

“Who else have you told?”    
  
“Your parents, naturally.”    
  
“And Robb?” Arya asked.    
  
Jon inhaled. “That--I’ll leave to you. Once you say yes, he can’t say much about the matter and he’ll have to forgive me.”    
  
They stayed silent for sometime. A million thoughts raced through Arya’s head as she placed her hands on the stone window sill, Jon remained behind her--just an embrace away, but he didn’t touch her.    
  
“Jon…”   
  
“Hmm?”

“You’re--really asking.”   
  
It wasn’t a question. 

Jon remained silent. He moved to the couch and bowed his head, elbows on his knees.    
  
“Why are you doing this?” Arya asked then, her voice small as her fingers started to trace small circles on the sill. “Why--why me?”    


“The status of my birth dictates that my marriage is to be conducted as a matter of significant business. My family is an establishment, as you are well aware. Your status as nobility as well as your family’s allegiance to the crown--”    
  
“Margaery,Yara, Myrcella, Arianne--” Arya started, listing names of noble bachelorettes who could very well fit the description that Jon just listed. “Sansa…” 

Jon laughed. “Your sister? Be serious.”    


Arya turned then. “No, YOU be serious! Jon--I may have been born to a Duke and Duchess but I have no business in this game. I’m a field reporter, for crying out loud! A second daughter! An heir to no one and a spare to nothing! At least Sansa’s a teacher, like your mum before she married into royalty, and she has all the manners that would befit anyone who would join your family.”    
  
“Sansa is not my best friend.” Jon answered. “And neither are all the other girls that you mentioned.” 

Arya fell silent then.   
  
“Arya?”    
  
“We’re not even--you have never even given a slightest hint of--”    
  
“What?”   
  
“Jon--you took Sansa to her prom, for crying out loud! There’s an implied sort of romantic history there at least--but you and I--I mean you don’t even feel--like, ‘that’ way about me...”    
  
Jon smirked. “Like what?”    
  
“Shut up.” Arya sighed, frustrated. “Seriously…”   
  
“Are you trying to tell me that you don’t believe that I have feelings for you? Really?”    
  
“Oh, fuck off. You know what I mean.” Arya snapped. “I mean, yes we say ‘I love you’ to each other all the time but--”   
  
“Oh, Good! I was starting to get worried that my words have been nothing but a mumble to you. I don’t think we’ve ever ended a conversation without saying those words to each other.”    
  
“Fuck, Jon--I say ‘I love you,’ to my family too--”    
  
“Well, it’s rather fortunate that you and I will legitimately be family soon, then.”    
  
“Can you be serious for one Goddamn minute, ass? Just one.” Arya exclaimed, taking a deep breath. “Look, you can’t just--drop in on my family vacation under the pretense of catching up, then ask me for this out of nowhere!”   
  
“I just did, Arya.” Jon answered. “And I am serious.”   
  
“Have you put any thought into what you’re asking me for? I’m not like the girls I mentioned, Jon! I have no socialite manners whatsoever! The media will slaughter the shit out of me...”    
  
Jon snapped then. “I will NEVER let harm come to you…”   
  
“You can’t promise me that!” Arya retorted. “Not everything is in your control! What the heck is your reasoning behind all of this? I don’t even know what to make of this fucking bullshit right now and I swear to--”    


“Hey.” Jon swooped beside her then, taking her into his arms. “Hey.”    
  
Arya took deep breaths and she allowed Jon to hold her. He has done so many times in her life that the gesture should’ve been mundane, but the last few minutes have changed it intimately.    
  
Because of the lingering question among them, she was suddenly aware of how small she fit into Jon’s frame. His lips on her forehead were still soothing, still chaste--but somewhat clouded in unfamiliar sweetness. One hand was wrapped around her waist and another rubbed her arm comfortably--no, intimately. 

“Take it back.” Arya asked. “Jon--please, just take it back. I promise I won’t even tease you about it.”    


“No.” Jon answered with a soft chuckle, nose inhaling the scent on the top of her head.

“You’re dead serious about this shit? Have you even thought this through?”    
  
“No. But I’m sure about this.”   
  
“Why?”    
  
Jon took her hand and clasped it onto his. “I’m confident about very few and yet particular truths in this life and one of those is that you and I will always be in each other’s lives. I can’t see a future without you in it. I have total confidence that you share this exact sentiment.”    
  
“Well--yeah, but--”    
  
“It still doesn’t make sense to you?”

“Jon, we don’t have to do this--to remain with each other forever! I’m in your life now, see? I'm not going anywhere, and no fucking ceremony...”    
  
“It wouldn’t be our first ceremony. I remember Bumblebee and Optimus Prime at the reception table with all of Sansa’s Barbie dolls...”   
  
Arya rolled her eyes. “I was seven years old, you idiot! I didn’t even want to play that game.”    
  
“But you only agreed because I asked to be your groom, didn’t you? Yes, it was for Sansa’s pretend-play satisfaction--”

“That’s just it, Jon--this is not make-believe. I’ve never given a second thought to--what you’re asking me for, and even if I had, this is certainly not how I would’ve envisioned it in the slightest…”    
  
“Do you reckon that you’d dream about romance and a lot of fluff? I thought that to be more of Sansa’s dream, not yours. I know you like I know my own mind, and you’re not that type of person. You’d prefer a straightforward claim, a transparent intention, hold the candy coat, a direct hit, if you may--and that is what I’m giving you.”

“Still--this seems unnatural. If I accept--”    


“When.” he gripped her hand tighter. “When you accept…”

“IF.” Arya insisted. “If I accept this--business proposal…” she closed her eyes and tried to steady her breath. “A business proposal for my life… I never would’ve imagined this shit.”    


He held her silently for some moments more. 

Arya braved to seek his eyes and she found them darkened, determined, even, with a finality that somewhat daunted her. 

When his gaze fell on her lips, she wriggled gently for some space to get up, but Jon held her still. 

“Do you love me?” Jon asked, tucking a loose curl from her cheek behind her ear.    
  
“Don’t be stupid, this is a lot bigger than that.” she answered softly.   
  
“But you do love me.” Jon stated.    
  
It wasn’t a question.    
  
“Forgive me if I offended you because of the absence of a romantic prelude. But--Arya, you and I have always communicated in a language that no one else understood. Tell me, would it have made a difference if I took you out on some dates first, asked to be your boyfriend, and then proposed?”   


Arya laughed then. “Shut up!”    
  
“You see how absolutely ridiculous that title is? ‘Boyfriend’ or ‘girlfriend’, it’s so pretentious. It’s not enough. It’s almost pathetic when it pertains to you and me. Now, give me an answer genuinely--did I or did I not stay true to the character of our friendship by proposing even before I so much made a move on you?”    
  
Arya’s eyes widened, and her cheeks reddened. “You would not--”    
  
“I will if you keep veering me off.” Jon warned. “We’re inevitable. We’re each other’s ending, you know this too. I know you do.”    
  
“No, actually--I don’t...”    
  
“Unlike you, I am burdened by the pressure to marry well. My father only bequeathed one advice about this matter; ‘There is no right one,’ he says, ‘The person that you trust with your life, the one who would rejoice with you at your highest and laugh with you at your lowest--is the best chance you’ve got to be happy in a marriage.’ Arya, you were the first and only person in my mind when he said that.” 

Arya’s breath hitched and she bit her lip. 

“What?” Jon whispered.

“I have to ask…”   
  
Jon hummed. 

“Why didn’t you--you were with her for a long time. I seriously thought that--like everyone else, I thought that you and her would…”    


“What?”

“Let’s just say that your mother’s ring seems to belong to her finger, not mine.” Arya whispered. 

“Can’t be farther from the truth, as it was never presented to her.” He answered quickly.

“I know, but how come? I always wanted to ask you, but you never wanted to talk about--”    


“Arya.” Jon muttered.   
  
“Yeah?”

“I could go into why it didn’t work out, but I really don’t see how she’s relevant right now.”

“You can’t expect me to not be suspicious about the timing--she did announce her own engagement just two months ago.”

“If you think that my proposal to you has anything to do with what she’s doing with her life, you’re mistaken.” Jon firmed.    
  
“But--Jon…”   


“Look at me.” he asked.    
  
Arya did, and their steely gazes locked for the longest time since his big question.

“This has NOTHING to do with her. If it did, I would tell you, for there is no reason for me to withhold anything regarding this. Especially because I’m asking you to tie your life to mine and I am all too aware of what I’m asking you to give up--and to take over. I proposed to you because I wanted to propose to YOU.” 

Arya bit her lip and nodded. They have never lied to each other--she could always sense if something was omitted or off, but nothing in his features indicated so. 

“So why is it so sudden, then?”    
  
“It makes no sense to delay the inevitable.” Jon answered, impatience looming. “Arya--”    
  
“I hope you can understand why I’m--I can’t even think right now. My flight back to Braavos is in three days, there’s a new project that was slated for me, I haven’t spent nearly enough time with my family, and I haven’t even seen you for six months so for this to be in question--”    
  
“We talk every day.” Jon answered. “We text every day and call each other almost every week--I talk to you more than I talk to my own family, more than anyone!”    
  
“True, but I just--”    


“Marry me.”   
  
Arya stilled, his last two words taking effect on her mood. She gently took her hand back from Jon’s palm--which he reluctantly released. She tucked her head into his chest for a moment and took a deep breath before untangling herself from his grasp to walk back to the same window that she looked out from earlier.    


“Marry me now, and I vow to you that I will prove myself worthy of your acceptance every single day for the rest of our lives.” Jon declared. “Marry me.”

He struggled to allow her space, but he did. Some minutes ticked by and silence kept them company.    
  
“Robb’s gonna fucking kill you.” Arya finally stated.    
  
Jon’s chest clenched and a feeling of relief washed over him.

“Is that a yes?”    
  
“What else would it be, stupid? You said it yourself.” Arya answered half-heartedly, but with full confidence in his last declaration. “We’re inevitable.” 

\---

**PRESENT**

As promised, Jon found his wife of eleven and a half years seated on his chair at his home office. He was informed that the children have gone to bed just a little before his arrival, at half past nine in the evening. 

Arya met his gaze when he walked in, her expression stoic and distant, not much different from their interactions for a little over a month. 

They have not seen or spoken to each other in a week, but their silent fight has been much longer. Since the incident, Arya has utilized the old bedchamber in their quarters at the palace to sleep and left him at the masters by himself. The children’s quarters are settled in the opposite wing, and their nannies have been warned to keep them from their own quarters at present. 

“The children tried to wait for you, but I think the flight tired them out.” Arya finally declared from the chair. “I told them you’d join them for breakfast. I didn’t see any engagements on your ledger, I hope you don’t mind.” 

Jon’s heart ached upon hearing her voice. She was seated right in front of him, yet she seemed so far. The distance and time apart was at her request, and though it pained him greatly, the fault for their argument was his and he was willing to grant her everything she wished for.

Arya could probably ask for his death and he would give it to her--it would be a lot less painful than the empty look she gave him right now.

Arya wore black leggings and her favorite gray sweater--the only piece of clothing that she insisted upon keeping since she became his wife. She only wore it around the house anyway, and he noted that she wore it on days that were particularly hard for her. Arya often said that it gives her the comfort of her old home, and Jon always found it endearing. 

Until the last month. 

The reason why she wore it so often now is because of him. 

He hated himself for it. 

“Of course I don’t.” Jon managed to answer, standing still on the spot where she met his gaze.    


Arya casually looked away from him. “Do you--want to sit down? If you’re too tired right now, we could meet tomorrow--”    
  
The liquor from the flight did nothing to calm Jon’s nerves. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to tell her that he was the biggest idiot to ever have walked the planet and he didn’t deserve her, but he wanted her--so damn much that it physically pained him. 

“No!” he answered quickly. “No, please. We need to--I want to talk.” he moved towards the sitting area and sat on the couch.   
  
Arya slowly got up to follow him but stopped by the refreshment table. “Can I fix you anything to drink? Robb sent you some Northman Blacks.” 

Jon nodded, not taking his eyes off her as she grabbed two beer bottles from the mini fridge. 

She handed him one and took a seat on the lounge chair across from him.

His heart ached again. 

‘She hates me.’ he thought, eyeing the distance from himself and the lounge chair she picked to situate herself on. ‘She really fucking hates me.’ 

Arya’s usual spot was in his lap, curled up against him--even in this very office. On late nights, when he needed work to be done, she would lay her head on his lap as he worked on his laptop and she would distract herself with a book just to stay close to him. 

And now, she can’t even be bothered to sit next to him on the spacious couch he occupied. 

Not even after a whole week of not seeing each other. 

Arya put her feet up on the comfortable chair and fiddled with her beer bottle, not meeting his warm gaze, She fixed her eyes at the edges of the white rug on the wooden floor.

“Thank you.” Jon whispered, breaking the silence. 

“No problem.” she answered.

Jon loosened his tie and folded his sleeves to his elbows as silence loomed over them, not taking his eyes off her. He missed her so much. He wants to be enveloped in her embrace, her kisses, her sweet words, her cusses, her scoldings, anything! Literally anything but the torture of her forced civility.

“I miss you.” Jon declared, his voice a little shaky.

Arya’s eyes remained fixated on the rug but she nodded. 

“I know.” she answered softly. 

“I’m sorry.” he furthered, his eyes moistening.

Arya bit her lip and inhaled deeply. “I know that too.” 

“Arya, please… I can’t take any more of this--please, let’s fix this.” 

Her distant gray eyes met his somber gaze and her expression remained blank. “Maybe we should just talk in the morning…”

“No!” Jon muttered, his eyes reddening. “Arya…”   
  
“Jon--” Arya answered stubbornly. “I thought I could--do this today. I really did--but I can’t even look at you and not feel--” 

Jon got up to stand with her and clasped her jaw to lock their eyes further.

It was the first time he had touched her intimately in a long while.

Arya hissed when he pressed their foreheads together--tears dangerously threatened his closed eyes. 

“Let’s fix this.” he pleaded. “Please.” 

Arya’s small palm clasped the hand that held her cheek, and he saw her lower lip quiver as her steely gaze met his despondent one. 

Jon took her mouth in his right then--and to his great surprise, she accepted his advances. His soul ached to be buried in her, and his cock was more than ready--he’s been half-hard since first seeing her today. 

He wanted to slow down, but his need of her was so great--that his hands couldn’t be contained. With his tongue buried inside her soft mouth, both of his hands squeezed her full bottom to lift her to his waist. 

He carried her with ease and sat her on the edge of his mahogany desk, moaning deliriously as her small hands rested on his chest. 

It was Arya who broke their kiss, of course--and with godly resistance, he complied. It was difficult to not take his wife as he stood between her legs--he has not had the pleasure of being with her for a significant amount of time. But he couldn’t think about his own needs--not now. 

“I can’t.” she muttered gently, head buried in his chest and palms on his shoulders. 

“It’s alright.” he managed. “I understand--I just miss you, so much.” 

Their heaving breaths were the only sounds that occupied the office--it was torturous for Jon. He kissed her hair repeatedly and rubbed her back for comfort--but he wanted more. 

More than just her body--

More than just her acceptance of his physical affections. 

He wanted her back. 

“Please come back to our chambers--lay with me tonight. Let me hold you just like this.” he pleaded, almost sobbing. “Tell me what I need to do, Arya. I need you back.”

She looked up at him then and gently pushed on his shoulders for space, which he granted.

“I need more time…” she answered.

Jon nodded. “I understand--my offense is unforgivable, take as much time as you need.” 

Arya shook her head. “I meant--more time apart, Jon. And not just a chamber apart.” 

It was he who backed off then--as if he was stabbed in the heart.   
  
“How long?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”   
  
“Where?”    
  
“I haven’t figured that out yet--I was hoping that your council could propose an idea. I understand that continuous separate engagements could arouse further suspicion, especially after... ” she stopped then, and the look of indifference returned in her expression. “Anyway--the children will be on vacation soon so I figured it would be the best time…”

Jon leaned at the wall and stared at his feet, clearly displeased. “Continuous? How long are you thinking?”

Arya didn’t answer. 

“Arya?”    
  
“I don’t know, Jon--I need time…”

“I know, you said that--and I’d like to give it to you, but at least give me an idea about how long…”

“I need time for myself, I don’t know how long it will take.” Arya answered. “I need--I need to be with my own thoughts. I need to think about--”   
  
“About what?” 

Arya waited for him to meet her gaze. For the first time that evening, her own eyes glossed over and her expression was mournful.    
  
Jon was alarmed then. “About what, love? Please talk to me…” 

“Jon…” 

He stilled, heart thundering through his chest.

“I can't do this anymore." 


	2. A Little Bit Longer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ROYAL TITLES: 
> 
> HRH The Prince Of Summerhall
> 
> HRH Arya, The Princess of Summerhall
> 
> HRH Prince Edward Louis Rhaegar of Summerhall
> 
> HRH Prince Jacaerys Robert Brandon of Summerhall

**Flashback** **  
** **About Three Weeks Since the Proposal**

Arya gazed at her cubicle walls longingly before she took the first photograph pin down and placed it inside her sturdy black box. The minimalist space has served as her home for the last two and a half years, and she was quite attached to it.

After her acceptance of Jon’s proposal, she was immediately prepped for the for the next few weeks. Arya was granted permission to return to Izembaro Broadcasting Corporation to formally tender her resignation from the group and decline the impending Crane Project that would’ve promoted her to the prestigious House of Black and White, the main corporation. The engagement was going to be announced a week from the present day, two days after her scheduled arrival in Winterfell, and the date of their wedding would be revealed shortly after. 

All members of the Stark family were needlessly asked to sign confidentiality agreements to keep the engagement under wraps until the formal announcement. Arya never even got to wear the ring that Jon presented because it had to be returned to the vault until the formalization. 

For the past two weeks, she has been in constant communication with Sam Tarly--Jon’s personal assistant. Sam has kept her updated about Jon’s schedule, the process of finding her a suitable personal assistant, and a lot more tedious things that Arya really cared to be involved in. The King and Queen Lyanna also made personal calls to her, expressed their happiness about the match, and sent her family fruits from The Red Keep’s orchard as a first engagement present per tradition. 

The only person who she hasn’t been in touch with as much is the man she’s supposed to be spending the rest of her life with. 

The Jon she knew and loved before the engagement seemed to have faded in the background noise of a much bigger circumstance--and she didn’t like it one bit. 

She and Jon used to call each other almost every week before that fateful afternoon in Winterfell’s receiving room. They texted each other every day. The texts have become so short and uncertain recently--which is so unlike them. He was finally able to give her a call about three days ago and while they were both briefly able to express apologies for the hastiness of their schedules lately, the dissatisfaction of their conversation left a bitter taste in her mouth. 

_ “I have been meaning to call--I’m so sorry… I got your texts about Sam’s candidate and I don’t think it’s too bad…”  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “No, that’s alright! I just--I’m still kind of having a hard time believing any of this is really happening… If Sam didn’t call or email me everyday I probably would’ve convinced myself that the whole thing was a dream! I feel like I’m still dreaming…”  _

_ “You haven’t changed your mind have you?” Jon teased from the other line. “I mean--I could cry treason if you tried to leave me…”  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ A brief ray of relief quelled Arya for a bit and she laughed. “Then cry.” she bit back.  _

_ “I love you.” he chuckled. “I can’t wait to see you.”  _

_ “I love you too…” she responded. “I just…”  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “What’s wrong?”  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “I just feel like--since we got engaged…” Why was the last word so hard for her to utter? “That I’m more engaged to Sam more than anything else… This isn’t like us! I mean--fuck.” she exhaled. “I just--I haven’t heard from you as much as I used to and even when we text it feels--so forced? I don’t know if I like the way that this feels--it’s weird as shit.”  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “No, I know--I’m sorry. I get it, it’s--I have to wrap up specific engagements earlier than anticipated because of the scheduled announcement so I’ve been slammed--” he reasoned. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Jon, I know, Sam told me all of this, but--”  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Arya--the council just got here, so I have to go but I promise I’ll call you back later tonight--your time, okay? I love you.”  _

_ Arya’s lips formed a firm line but she resigned. “Alright, I’ll talk to you later.”  _

_ “I love you.” Jon muttered again before cutting the line.  _

_ He didn’t call her back that night.  _

Arya couldn’t turn to her trusted friends for counsel, either. Though Arya immediately informed her best friends Jeremy, who she called Hot Pie, and Lommy about the engagement she knew that this might exceed what they were capable of understanding. She had one other girlfriend, Weasel--but she hadn’t informed her yet because she was a big gossip. 

Arya then turned to the only person she could turn to, her sister Sansa. 

Which was probably a terrible idea.

_ “You mean--you haven’t even slept with each other yet?” Sansa squealed on the other line. “And you’ve been engaged for what, almost a month?”  _

_ Arya sighed. “Why does that matter? We’re supposedly getting married and…”  _

_ “So--Jon really just popped the question out of nowhere, like you said?”  _

_ “Yes! Why would I lie about that, Sansa? Don’t be fucking stupid.”  _

_ “Gods! Well--like everyone else, I thought you guys were doing it the whole time secretly! That look you always gave each other--and how freaked out he was when Edric Dayne took you to your prom! Oh--even old dad couldn’t keep him from waiting up for you. No one was surprised when Ned didn’t end up pursuing you after that...”  _

_ “What do you mean like everyone else? If we were together why would we have hidden it?”  _

_ “Uhh--Robb, duh.”  _

_ Arya shook her head. “You know what--calling you about this was a bad idea…”  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Oh, shush. Arya, I’m just glad that you’re not knocked up…”  _

_ “Knocked up? We haven’t even kissed yet, dumbass!”  _

_ “YOU HAVEN’T KI--” Sansa gasped over the phone and Arya almost regretted what she just revealed.  _

_ “Arya--I’m sorry--I don’t know, this is kinda weird.” Sansa continued. “If I didn’t sign those confidentiality agreements I would’ve started to wonder if you were really engaged too.”  _

Calling Sansa for advice was a terrible, terrible idea. 

“Clearing your desk already then?” Jane kipped from behind her. “Here I thought we still had two full days with you.”    
  
Arya turned and gave the girl a curt nod. Jane Waif and Arya Stark started off as bitter rivals at IBC. The former was her senior and undermined Arya’s capabilities of completing undercover work because of her celebrity status in Westeros. Though they’ve never become friends, they later learned to respect each other. Arya’s performance in the No Name Project gained her renown in both IBC and the House of B&W, with commendation from Jane, who was formerly favored to lead the project herself. 

“Just getting started.” Arya answered. “I still have to wrap a couple of things up before I leave, anyway.” 

Jane nodded. “Jack wants to see you.” 

Arya’s mouth formed a thin line. “Yeah. Thanks.” 

She was able to take down several more pins before setting her favorite coffee mug down beside her double screen. She decided that it would be the last thing she’d take before she leaves the place.

“Hey--Stark?” Jane started. 

Arya turned to face her. 

“Arya.” she coughed. “I just wanted to say--before your farewell cake and happy hour bon voyage parties start… It’s been a ride.” 

Arya managed a small smile. “Thanks, Waif.” 

“Listen we both know--and don’t negate me on this bullshit.” Jane forced a chuckle. “We both know that the Crane Project and position at B & W was yours--and it would’ve been deserved. I guess--I’m trying to say--thanks for leaving? But in a nicer way.” 

Arya laughed then. “You’re welcome.” Arya knew exactly what her colleague wanted to say, and she greatly appreciated it. But out of respect, she allowed Jane to limit her words.

Jane managed a genuine grin before turning to leave. 

“Jane.” Arya followed. “You’re going to rock the shit out of Black and White. Congratulations.” 

With a final small nod, and their final sign of respect by addressing each other through their first names, Jane left her to finish her work. 

**======**

“You wanted to see me?” Arya started as she walked inside the luxury office for the Chief Executive Liaison Officer for the Black and White House, IBC Chapter, Jack Hagen. 

Jack was in charge of IBC as a direct charge of the main house, B&W. He was effectively her boss, though not her direct supervisor. Jack became the best mentor and confidant she had in Braavos. They have formed a close partnership over the years. 

Really close.

Really, really close.

Their closeness came to peak during her time for the No Name Project. Jack was one of her doubters and initially favored Jane to lead the expose, but settled for accompanying Arya to oversee the assignment. It was then that they discovered common interests, a unique mental connection, and uncanny similarities as far as approaching the subject. 

When the project wrapped up gloriously, gaining the network many prestigious awards and renown--Arya and Jack were so happy, that after the grand celebration party, they found themselves in bed together. 

It was Arya’s first time.

They never talked about their relationship at all--but they ended up seeing each other several more times before ultimately deciding that it wasn’t a good idea. 

Arya remembered the night she told Jon about her rendezvous--maybe a month after it wrapped up with Jack and she confirmed that there was no awkward air when he was in the office. Jon was still famously dating Daenerys then, and she was already turning twenty two years old! What did he expect?

Arya never gave him a name, or anything that could reveal Jack’s identity. She knew Jon, and though she told him mostly everything under the sun--her dating life seemed to be a sensitive subject for him. 

She should’ve known that he had feelings for her then. 

But did he really? 

Besides, she wanted to continue her work with IBC and she and Jack seemed to have moved on from the stage mutually and professionally. 

Arya was surprised when Jon expressed no tone of disappointment or admonishment on the other end of the line, just gratitude for trusting him. It was a great improvement from Edric’s time. 

It was a great improvement, she thought. 

Until two days later--when Jon showed up at her doorstep for a surprise visit and insisted on meeting all of her friends in Braavos. Since Jack wasn’t really her ‘friend’ per say--well. 

Arya smiled at the memory. 

“Hey, Stark.” Jack responded from the vast window of his office. “Can you shut the door?” 

Arya nodded and tried hard to conceal her hesitation. Since their rendezvous, they haven’t been alone in private. She turned to shut the double wooden doors and took a seat in front of his huge mahogany desk. 

Jack walked over to his private bar and poured two glasses of Dom Perignon, Red. 

“Special occasion?” Arya teased. 

She watched as he walked towards her--his stark sky blue eyes ever so prominent over his signature elegant black tux. She once thought about what an odd pair they made--with him always sophisticated and pristine in branded button ups while she always had on a casual white and jeans--or slacks during formal meetings.

Everything about Jack was always so immaculately in place. His beard was always groomed, dark hair perfectly raised at the right spots, and the man never seemed to have encountered a bad hair day nor missed a day at the gym (he had his own workout room in the office too.) 

“You could say that.” Jack answered, and instead of taking his seat across the table, sat down on the guest chair beside her. “To you.” 

Arya raised her glass and took a sip. “I’ll take this as your official declination to the surprise happy-hour send off that Doreah arranged tonight?” 

Jack chuckled. “Not at all, I have to make an appearance.” 

Arya nodded and leaned back on her chair. “Good to know.” 

“I just can’t help but know that once you return to the life that you committed yourself to, unsupervised and undocumented time with you will be highly unlikely.” Jack muttered. 

Arya avoided his gaze and focused on her glass. “How do you mean?” she feigned. 

“You don’t have to confirm anything--the gag order is pretty standard among royal families. I just wanted to wrap things up appropriately before I won’t be able to.”

Arya grimaced and she recognized his knowing grin.

“As it is, I don’t think I’d have enough time.” Jack continued.

Of course, Jack would know. 

He is the head of the IBC Chapter AND a high ranking B&W officer. 

The Royal Family of Westeros may not be their area of interest, but it is their business to know. 

“I’ll keep this very brief.” Jack started. “I only want to be able to tell you two things before you leave.” 

Confident as always, Jack unfolded his legs and met her eyes without hesitation. 

“First--that B&W would have been fortunate to have you in the Faceless Division.”    


Arya’s eyes lit up. “The Faceless--”

Jack nodded. “As an officer. I didn’t want to reveal it to you until you wrapped up the Crane Project but it was basically done.” 

Arya once aspired to join the Elite Faceless Division--it would’ve caused her to give up her royal title, become a dual-citizen, and live in anonymity for four years for training. It was an exciting thought for her and would’ve given her a more hands-on approach to her work. She thought it was an impossible dream because of her cerebral status in Westeros.

“That--would’ve been… Wow.” was all Arya could come up with. 

“Waif hasn’t been extended the same honor--in case you were wondering.” Jack followed. 

“The second thing--might be lengthy and I hope you’d allow me to complete my thoughts on the matter.” Jack started again. 

“It wasn’t over for me.” 

Arya bit her lip.

“I didn’t want your own credible work to be clouded with doubt once the inevitable promotion was due. As an officer--you and I would be equal in a sense and--it would’ve been more appropriate to rekindle it then.” 

Arya gulped the last of her wine. There was no way that she could’ve anticipated this confession from Jack--none! He was always so mysterious and short with personal words. 

“I…”    
  
“As it is, please know that I am happy for you. I was a bit surprised--but you’d come to realize--or do you already know?” he chucked. “That the establishment you’d be joining is an adventure on its own too. Many historical books would be your proof. I suppose it’s just a different kind of adventure, though.” 

Arya nodded and said nothing, just ran her small thumb at the stem of her glass. 

“You are--happy, Stark--are you not?” Jack asked. 

Arya’s heart clenched. 

Not in a good way.

She nodded anyway. 

Jack hummed and seeked her gaze once more. “Is there possibly anything you’d like to tell me before--”    
  
“One question.” Arya posed. 

Jack waited. 

“What’s your name?” she asked, heart thundering through her chest. Most members in the Faceless Division have adopted the name that was given to them during their anonymous years, and Arya always had the feeling that Jack did too--during his time with them. To ask anyone for this information would’ve been considered impolite, so Arya never did.

Jack smiled at her meaningfully and sighed. 

“It was Jaqen.” he answered, then cleared his throat. “My name is Jaqen.”

Arya nodded and extended her palm to him, which he graciously accepted.

“Thank you for everything,” Arya whispered. “Jaqen.” 

Jack kissed the back of her hand chastely and looked up at her. “Goodbye, Arya Stark.” 

**======**

_ “You are--happy, are you not?”  _

The words kept repeating inside her head no matter how far back she placed it in her mind. 

Arya feared to acknowledge the answer. 

She was walking back to her apartment after her conversation with Jack. She was ‘surprised’ by her colleagues with a bon voyage happy hour get together. Though she was engaged in their laughs and well-wishes at the time, the thought loomed on her again. 

It had been a solid four long days since she last heard Jon’s voice. Her last text message to him requesting a phone call has been unanswered for two days--which was a first in memory. 

Was she happy? 

She had half a mind to resolve her simmering doubts. Her hand reached for the phone inside her leather satchel--braving to call the person she should really speak to--the only one she really ever turned to when something didn’t sit right with her. 

He used to answer her call no matter what time of day it was, anyway. 

She’s not going to care about that. 

Arya was surprised when she glanced down at her phone to see an active call featuring a picture of a white wolf with red eyes. 

She took a deep breath before answering.

“Hey.” she answered calmly. 

“Arya.” he answered, tone seemingly relieved.

Arya raised a brow. “You alright?” 

She was met with silence on the other line--but she could hear that he was breathing just fine. 

“Jon--are you alright?”   
  
“Yes--more than ever in my life.” he answered. 

“Uh--what?” 

“Where are you?” he asked.

“I’m walking home--stopping by for coffee though. I think the last shot got to me--they had a little get together to send me off earlier…”    
  
“I wanted to…”   
“And I wanted to…” 

They both paused. 

“Go.” Arya muttered.   


“No--no, go ahead. Your last text seemed really--it kind of got me worried.”    


“So worried you couldn’t be bothered to call back or at least respond?” Arya snapped. 

“Arya--”    
  
“No--see, this is what I wanted to talk to you about.” Arya followed. “And I don’t give a flying fuck about who walks in--because we need to lay this out right now before it’s too late to take back. If you don’t send them off Targaryen I swear to the fucking Gods--”    
  
“Take what back?” he muttered from the other line.

Arya took a deep breath as she paid the cart attendant for her small coffee. She knew that the last shot of whiskey kind of got to her. “Jon…”    
  
“Take what back?” he repeated. 

“I didn’t want to talk about this over the phone--but Sam’s last email said that you wouldn’t even land in Winterfell until the day of the scheduled announcement… You and I haven’t really talked since--this whole shit started and…”   
  
“I know--that’s why...” he paused for breath. “I don’t want to take it back--”   
  
“Jon--we’re already not acting like us! I don’t want a life of scheduled fucking calls with your assistant--I want--what we had! I can’t even call you without thinking twice now, and it’s weird as shit. When you proposed to me and made the argument that you and I were inevitable, I knew it was true--I still do. But maybe we should step back from the dynamic of having to be engaged because look at how much it’s changing us! I don’t want this, Jon. You’ve had that slammed schedule ever since I could remember but we’ve never been so disconnected before and I don’t know--”    
  
“Arya…”   
  
“We should really revisit this before the announcements are made, Jon--please.” Arya completed her sentence as she walked up the stairs, firm in her resolve. “I don’t want to lose you over this but I feel like I am anyway…”    
  
“Please don’t do this.” Jon muttered quietly. “Don’t…”   
  
“I’m not doing anything--I just think we should talk about it a bit more. We could ask to postpone the announcement and…” Arya turned the knob to enter her apartment and discovered that the lights to her living room were left open. 

“Well that’s--” Arya started as her eyes roamed around the small space. 

“Then talk.” A voice from the couch requested. 

With both their hands on their phones, they locked eyes. 

Jon stood up from the couch slowly, eyes solemn and glossed over, dark at the bottom. He wore his Castle Black University hooded sweater over fitted denims and he looked anxious, distraught, and exhausted. 

Arya was stunned and she clicked to hang up. “How did--why are you…” 

In two short strides he enveloped her in a hug so tight and emotional, Arya forgot her questions. 

Jon buried his nose on top of her head and slightly lifted her from the carpet floor. She didn’t know how he did it, but somehow he was able to take both her coffee cup and phone from her hands and placed it on the end table. 

“I’m sorry.” he whispered on her scalp after some moments.

Arya rested her head on his chest and hugged him in return, relieved and overjoyed by his presence, and for the moment choosing to forget the serious tirade that she had posed just minutes before. 

Arya felt Jon lift from her momentarily to seek her eyes. He cupped her jaw to lift her face before placing a tender and loving kiss to her forehead, a small one on the top of her nose, and an affectionate one on the top of her lips. 

Arya was daunted by the beat inside her chest. Jon has kissed her on the lips before, but she was quite young and they were chaste in nature. 

This one lingered a bit longer and was so full of relief and new affection that it scared her to realize how natural it felt. As if he had kissed her this way all their lives, which was of course, far from the truth.

When he parted, Arya distracted herself by playing with the strings of his hood. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Dorne by tomorrow? Sam emailed me--”    
  
“I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” Jon answered softly, he gathered her by the waist and walked towards the big recliner. 

“But--” 

“I cancelled everything.” Jon declared as he settled his back on the big plush chair. Arya’s legs swung on the side across his lap and he held her with his head buried on the curve of her neck. 

“I have no further engagements until the announcement, and Sam arranged to include your name in my agenda from there on out. I included an addendum to ensure that we would not take separate engagements that would cause us to be physically apart for more than two days.” 

Arya’s eyes widened as Jon tucked her in further to his torso with one arm and his free hand reached for her palm, which was so small compared to his. 

Jon had never cancelled any of his engagements before. 

“But who’s going to--”    
  
“It’s not important.” 

“Jon…”

“Viserys was more than happy to cover for me--he’s requested high profile assignments for sometime now. But I don’t want to talk about any of that. None of it.” 

Jon’s breath was hot on her skin, and his lips slightly touched her collarbone when he spoke. A shy fluttery feeling began to form underneath her navel and she sighed. 

  
“I don’t want to take it back.” he whispered on her neck, and the heat made Arya inhale sharply. 

“I know--I just…”

“Arya…” Jon lifted from her to seek her eyes. “I was careless. There’s no other excuse for it--I had full confidence that we could just pick this up when we both returned to Winterfell for the announcement, that I unintentionally neglected you immediately after you gave me your hand.”

“I’m sorry.” he whispered, his eyes began to water and he brought the back of her hand to his lips and kissed each knuckle. “Please allow me to make up for it. I promise I won’t allow this disconnection to happen between the both of us ever again.”

Arya bit her lip and observed how tired he appeared. The flight must’ve worn him out. She clasped his jaw with a free hand and ran a thumb across his neat stubbles. 

“Have you slept at all? You look exhausted. I could fix you--” 

Jon shook his head and tightened his grip on her waist. 

“Do you want to marry me?” 

She chuckled. “Didn’t I already say yes to you?” 

“I asked you if you would…” Jon whispered and cast his eyes down. “Not if you wanted to. This is probably the worst time I could ask you this--Gods know that you probably hate me right now but--” 

“Jon,” Arya gripped his hand a bit tighter and forced him to look back up at her. “If you do know me like your own mind as you once claimed, you would know that no one can convince me to do anything that I don’t want to do. Not even you, no matter how much I love you.” 

Jon remained locked in her gaze and doubt clouded his features. 

“Where’s the cocky fucking Prince who proposed to me last month?” Arya teased. 

Jon didn’t smile, instead more moisture gathered around his eyes. 

“I almost lost you.” 

Arya shook her head. “No, you didn’t--” 

“You asked Sam to hold off on the preparations for Winterfell.” his voice seemed to shake a bit. 

Arya bit her lip when she sensed a bit of heartbreak in his tone. 

“Jon…”    
  
“I do know you, Arya. I do.” he whispered. “You wanted to avoid the flare in case you decided that you didn’t want me after all. Until then, I didn’t even consider that possibility.” 

Arya stayed quiet, her gaze locked on their intertwined fingers. 

“These last several days…” Jon started, a bit of disdain and utter repentance reigned in his voice. “Made me realize--just how much I want this. Just how much I want you. Just how much I don’t want to be without you…”

Arya looked up to speak but Jon gently placed his thumb on her lips. 

“I need to--I desperately want to be with you as your husband.” Jon declared. “I really, really want you to be my wife. Do you want to marry me? Despite knowing how easily I could misjudge everything? That I’m an idiot and I make mistakes? 

Arya’s lips found his and she kissed him deeply, he returned her gesture most fervently. 

She parted from him and cocked a brow. “We won’t be married through your assistant, your title, your office or--”

Jon shook his head. “To each other. You and me. That’s it. You will be my priority over everything, as you should. I prepared something that will further this vow more than just words--but it’s on the plane…” 

“Plane?” 

Jon nodded. “There’s a car for us outside, a private jet awaits us at the airport for Winterfell.” 

Arya’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What the fuck--I haven’t packed any of my stuff! My flight wasn’t until three days--” 

“Sam will take care of it all.” Jon declared. “Let’s go home. I told your father we were coming early and he couldn’t be more excited…”

“Wait! What about the press? You just cancelled all of your engagements and--” 

“Took the jet to come get you across the world? In the middle of the night by the way.” Jon smiled for the first time. “And now I’d be staying in Winterfell with your family? They absolutely didn’t miss that! Our engagement might just be the worst kept secret in history.” 

Arya chuckled and kissed his cheek. “Let me take a backpack then…” 

She attempted to get up, but Jon’s hand stilled her. 

“What?” she asked. 

Jon tucked her head in his chest and pulled her body close to his as much as possible. He wrapped an arm over her waist and rubbed her back with his free hand. He inhaled the scent on the top of her head and Arya closed her eyes. 

“Just a little bit longer.” he whispered. 

They both fell asleep for a few hours before they left for the airport. 

**PRESENT**

“I’ll be out of here in a moment.” Arya finally muttered, still unwilling to meet his gaze from the closet door. “I thought you were still with your staff.” 

Jon had been watching her from the door of their common dressing room, a spacious closet that housed most of their accessories, garments and every day jewelry. It was big enough to be considered as a large apartment, really. It had two separate rooms, revolving shelves of shoes and hats, a wooden center table housed all of their jewelry in the middle room where they stood, with two full length mirrors. 

Since Arya had moved to the separate chamber in their quarters, she has only visited this area on carefully picked times to not run into him. It made his heart ache. 

“This is your room too. There’s no need to rush.” Jon answered solemnly. 

Arya nodded without looking at him as she stuffed more socks inside her suitcase. 

“It’ll only be a week, love.” he noted. “That’s a lot of socks.” 

Arya managed an empty scoff. “It’s still in the Westerlands. Never enough socks.” 

Upon her request last week, the council proposed her holiday break to be spent in the Westerlands with her sister at Clegane’s Keep. They were both warned about more media speculation for spending another holiday apart, especially since no official statement had been released from their house regarding their status after the infamous interview; but Jon stood firmly behind his wife’s request no matter how much it pained him. The council advised them to limit the vacation to just a week--and although Arya was clearly displeased, she said nothing further. 

Since he collected her back from Braavos all those years ago--they have not spent more than two days apart physically, true to his word. But now only after four days of having her presence back, he had to let her go again.

He watched silently as she rummaged through the hangers, even eyeing his own wardrobe keenly for a specific item that she was searching for. He allowed her to search for some time, even if he knew that the item she seeked was right in his grasp. Jon needed a few more moments in her presence. Like the weeks before this, they haven’t been alone. They all dined as a family, and they tucked the children in together, but Arya would retire to her chamber before he could have a moment with her. 

“Here.” he whispered, approaching the table where she had her suitcase laid out. “I had it washed this morning.” 

Jon placed Arya’s folded gray sweater neatly inside the case. “I knew you wouldn't want to leave without it.” 

She finally met his gaze for the first time and bit the inside of her cheek. “Thanks.” 

Jon nodded and kept her gaze from some moments when he realized that she was merely waiting for him to move away so she could return to the suitcase. 

He swallowed bitterly. 

‘She hates me.’ 

When he stepped back, Arya quickly returned to the suitcase and closed the flap in order to zip it. She made no secret that she wanted to leave his presence as soon as possible. 

“You forgot something.” he noted. 

Arya first glanced at her left hand, where his mother’s ring and wedding bands sat. “Uhm--I don’t think so--” 

Jon took the opportunity to come up from behind her and opened the small drawer under the table. He took out the white gold necklace that he gave her on their 10th wedding anniversary. It was a simple chain and had three white gold coins for pendants, engraved with his own name, Edward’s and Jaceaerys’s. Arya usually found a way to only honor engagements that included the children, or at the very least, Jon--but during instances that she had to honor assignments alone, she wore the chain to have them near her. 

“Oh. Of course.” she muttered, reaching for the necklace.

“Let me.” he asked. 

“It’s alright, I can…”

“Please.” he whispered, unlocking the chain. “Please let me.” 

To his relief she protested no more and turned so he could put on the chain around her neck. 

She even lifted her hair to ease him. 

Jon felt a painful relief upon his fingertips when his skin touched her collar bone. 

Unable to help himself further--Jon slowly but firmly grasped her by the waist and held her tightly, placing his forehead on the curve of her neck. 

“I haven’t taken mine off since you left our chambers.” Jon softly whispered into her skin. 

“Arya--I miss you so, so, much.” 

She remained unmoved.

“You should add the children’s names to yours too.” was the only response she could muster. “Or have something made with the children’s names on it.” 

Jon’s bracelet was given to him by Arya during her first year in Braavos. It was just from a local souvenir shop, a simple braided bracelet made from brown threads and leather that she thought he would like. She later admitted that she only picked it up for him because she had completely eaten all of the pastries that she said she was going to bring back.

Years later, during an afternoon back in their first home, Summerhall--a toddler Edward came upon the bracelet in one of his old drawers. Jon decided to have Arya’s name threaded on the inseam, and he wore it under his suit whenever he attended any engagements without her.

Jon ran his lips on the side of her cheeks, before bravely turning her face to meet his. He kissed her softly, desperately, fervently--until her palm pushed him away gently. 

“Arya--” 

“I should go…”   
  
Jon pulled her back into him and held her tightly. 

“Just a little bit longer.” 

He felt her inhale sharply.

It took a moment before she spoke again.

“Jon--don’t do this.” she whispered in his chest. “I have to go.” 

Arya did allow him to hold her for a few more moments before gently untangling herself from his grasp and quickly collecting her suitcase without another glance.

Jon couldn’t describe how empty his arms felt after she left their closet room. Years ago--an artist for a museum that he and Arya were patrons for posed a question for them during a casual interview. They were asked; ‘What do you think heartbreak sounds like?’ 

Arya, his witty wife, quickly answered that it would have to be the sound that a box of cupcakes would make if it fell on the floor uneaten.

Jon answered that he wouldn’t know because his heart stood right next to him. 

She did; proudly in his arm--with a beautiful smile upon her lips.

Though now, when he heard the door from the hallway shut quietly behind her--he concluded that that may be how his heart would sound like breaking. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **AHHH.**
> 
> 1\. It's hard not to chime in on the comments--but I wouldn't. I'd like to leave a lot of this piece to reader interpretation. 
> 
> 2\. I attended a wedding recently, where the pastor told the loving couple this beautiful quote: "You like someone because, and you love someone despite." that inspired me. 
> 
> 3\. This is a torturous piece for me to write, and I only visit it when I'm feeling sappy--so. **ALSO:** I might edit this chapter later for corrections here and there.
> 
> 4\. Next chapter would feature the story from the boys' POV. 
> 
> 5\. This piece will not be updated as often. I only write it out when a certain mood visits me. 
> 
> **PLEASE LEAVE ME COMMENTS!**
> 
> I may not answer comments directly, but if needed, I will issue comments of my own if an important query is posed.


	3. Only Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so apparently I'm a liar. 
> 
> This is mostly a filler-smut chapter, but with some hidden eggs. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy nonetheless.

**Flashback** **  
** **Two Days before Prince Edward’s 4th Birthday**

Jon was just as unhappy about the impending move as Arya. Summerhall has always been his designated home and where he wanted to settle his own family. It was restored immediately after their wedding and they have enjoyed the quiet privacy of their spacious castle ever since. 

Since he was a child, he was told that he would be made Prince of Summerhall when he married while Aegon would carry on as the Prince of Dragonstone, fitting as the heir of the Iron Throne. However, since his own brother remained childless and without prospect, even in his late thirties, world attention somehow shifted to Jon, Arya and their son--Edward. 

Jon was summoned to meet with his parents the day before and was asked to spend the evening so they could convene about the possibility of moving into the major apartments of The Red Keep. He was adamant about his family staying in Summerhall, but while the King agreed to postpone the topic for a later time, he knew that once the seed was planted--the move would be inevitable. The realm apparently needed some sort of symbolic visual comfort regarding succession, and installing their family in the keep would serve just that--until Aegon marries and produces his own heirs. 

It has been six years since he brought Arya out officially into the world as his bride, and as expected--many questions surrounded the match at the beginning. 

  1. Was it for convenience? Because Prince Jon has always been the dutiful son, he would of course select a bride from another noble family. Lady Arya of House Stark was his best friend’s little sister and he’s been around her since she was a child, she would fit the bill if the intention was to simply produce legitimate heirs.  
  
The answer was of course, NO. Jon didn’t even acknowledge his true feelings for Arya again until one fateful afternoon, when he streamed one of her broadcasts from Braavos during a flight to The Shield Islands. It didn’t take too long after that for him to decide that he wanted to act upon his feelings then with a dangerous finality. Arya would later discover that Jon had already intended on proposing well over a month before she came down to Winterfell for a visit.  
  
If anything, as the papers would later feast on, her being Robb’s little sister was rather INCONVENIENT.



  1. Is she pregnant? Could the younger prince have proposed because he got Arya withchild? Is she pregnant with his heir?  
  
Another no. They even chose to wait two years after they tied the knot to try for a first child, because they wanted to spend time getting acquainted romantically.



  1. Is this the Prince’s response to Daenerys Stormborn’s recent engagement news? Shortly after Prince Jon and his long time girlfriend, Dani, officially called it quits, the human rights lawyer announced her engagement to Drogo, Khal of the Dothraki from Vaes Dothrak, a municipality of the country of Essos. Dani was long thought of to be the future Princess of Summerhall, for she has served as his constant companion for several high profile engagements.   
  
Of all the assumptions and write-ups, this was the subject that Arya hated the most. She found herself constantly compared to Daenerys’ sophisticated background and noble work. There were times when she’d see an old photograph of Jon and Dani and think of them as the more ideal match, their respective contrasting features complemented each other beautifully. They were undoubtedly very appealing on magazine covers and she was always so eloquent and poised during interviews.  
  
The country would come to realize very soon, however--that the young Prince’s heart truly belonged to the lady he chose as his bride.   
  
Jon was always solemn, so formal and somewhat rigid in interviews, unlike his older brother who had mastered charisma and charm in front of the cameras. Daenerys usually carried their interviews with her own charm and wit, and Jon would happily let her do the talking.   
  
Remarkably, during their first interview as a couple, Arya got Jon to laugh freely when she divulged the story of his proposal. Unlike Jon, she didn’t mince words, told the story as it were, appropriately omitting coarse language, of course, but her feelings were all there. It prompted him to famously say afterward, _“I hope that finally showed everyone why it’s always been her for me.”  
  
_ Their first royal engagement further showed the world how very well matched they were. With Arya in his arms, Jon didn’t seem to notice the cameras that followed them during the first carnival fundraiser for No Barriers, an organization that helped underprivileged children to access affordable high-quality education, sports and arts. They both wore jeans and matching windbreakers, played with the children and interacted with the organizers off-script. Jon lost to Arya several times in some carnival games, but the latter seemed to have hurt her ankle during a tug-off war.   
  
It was then when Jon mindlessly gave her a piggyback ride back to the car and sneaked an affectionate kiss upon her lips when he sat her down. It was unusual for the royal family to display much affection in public, much more so during a formal engagement, and Jon was probably going to receive a scolding, had it not been for the positive press that commended them for being so ironically natural and relatable.   
  
They officially became patrons for this organization shortly after they got married, and every year honored the invitation as special guests for the carnival fundraiser. 



  
  


“Daddy!” Edward squealed as soon as Jon entered the door. “I thought you weren’t going to be back until after dinner? Mum said.” 

Jon caught his son effortlessly as his suitcase was taken away by some staff. “I was indeed, little wolf. But you know I always come home earlier if I can…” 

“Because you can’t wait to see mum.” Edward continued. 

“And you too, of course!” Jon answered. 

Edward laughed heartily. “Mostly mum. But me too! It’s my birthday tomorrow!” 

Jon laughed in return. “In two days, Edward.” 

Edward’s face scrunched up. “I know! That’s why it’s tomorrow, Dad! Uncle Egg said he’s coming too! He called mum today and I talked to him.” 

“I know--he mentioned that. Is mummy still with Gilly?” 

Edward shook his head. “She didn’t spend that much time in the office today. She was sleepy again. She promised me that we would play before dinner--but she’s been so tired that I just let her sleep and I stayed out here with Nanny and played with my legos.” 

Jon brushed his son’s dark locks away from his forehead and kissed him. “You’re such a good boy. Thank you for taking care of mummy while Daddy’s away. Do you want to play outside with Nan? I need to talk to Mum.” 

Edward laughed again. “You were only gone for one night, daddy! Silly. I want to look for froggies and not the chocolate kind. Will you come outside when you’re done talking to mummy?” 

“Ah--but Edward--”    
  
“Even one minute without you and mummy is too long.” the boy finished his sentence with him and chuckled. 

“I know--I just like when you say that.” 

“That’s why I did.” Jon muttered before placing him down on his feet. “Now go, I’ll join you after.” 

“Good afternoon, Sir.” Davos greeted him from the stairs as his son skipped off with his nanny. “I’m happy to report that nothing needs your immediate attention at this moment--but I could have something prepared for you, should you need refreshments--” 

Jon shook his head. “I ate a bit in the plane. Has Arya eaten anything since--” 

Davos nodded with a smile. “The chef made some seared chicken breasts and vegetables for her but she decided to get takeout. Worry not--it seemed--adequate…”   
  
“What did she have this time?” Jon asked with a knowing smile on his face. 

“Ah. Spaghetti with lots of meatballs, two Oreo cookies, a glass of cold milk and a pickle.” Davos chuckled. “She did eat enough, sir. But her luncheon briefing seemed to be too much for her and has retired to your chambers ever since. Gilly wrapped up the meeting and I have the report whenever you’re ready to go over them.”

Jon smirked and he loosened his tie. “Tomorrow.” 

Davos nodded. “Understood.” 

Jon made his way up the stairs before turning to his old confidant. “Oh, and could you--” 

“You will not be disturbed, Sire.” Davos chuckled again.

**=====**

Jon opened the door carefully, to not disturb her slumber. If he learned anything during her first pregnancy, it was absolutely that. 

Arya was neither difficult nor irritable, like how he was warned. But she was absolutely ill for the first trimester with Edward. That was one of the reasons why they decided to wait a little longer for another child, for while Arya was constantly sick, Jon refused to leave her side, and he was a mess too. She had lost a lot of weight, was always pale, and didn’t like to eat much because of the inevitable hurl that would follow. Nonetheless, by the middle of her second trimester she was well enough to join Jon on his engagements, to the relief of their councils. They also decided to not take separate assignments until Edward turned one years old.

This pregnancy seemed to be easier right off the bat though. But because of the fragility of her first trimester with Edward, they decided to keep the news to themselves until they were over the delicate period. Only themselves, The King and Queen, and Ser Davos knew that they were expecting another child. 

Jon was disappointed when he found their bed empty and made. Her phone was plugged on the end table charger, but she was nowhere to be found. He tossed his shirt to the wooden hamper and took off his shoes before turning about the room in search of her. 

When his eyes came upon her sleeping form, his entire body seemed to find relief and joy. 

It was nice to be home.

Arya’s small frame easily fit into the cot in front of the biggest window of their room, facing the gorgeous courtyard where their son liked to play. She lay on her side, sleeping deeply, with her favorite book in her dainty little hand. 

Jon took a moment to drink her image, and swallowed once he recognized that she was wearing one of his old white button down shirts. He knew that she liked to do that, wear a shirt of his when she missed him. Arya used to wear his old sweater before she left Winterfell for University, much to Robb’s dismay. 

He didn’t quite think it would look like this. 

At the moment, no work of art could be more beautiful than what he was blessed to witness before him. His wife, wearing his shirt, under the afternoon light of their home in Summerhall, carrying his child. 

Before he could think further, Jon took his camera phone and snapped several pictures of her.

Jon then gently placed a kiss upon her lips, with no intention to wake her. He wanted to move her to the bed though, so he could at least stay beside her. 

There was no resistance on her part, and Jon was easily able to place her on the bed without disturbing her sleep. Arya’s soft brown locks splayed beautifully on their pillow and he drank her image wholeheartedly, feeling sincerely content with everything in the world as he sat beside her shoulder, facing her. 

Jon intended to take his place beside her, until he turned on his shoulder to find that her feet were placed immodestly apart underneath his gaze. 

Arya had one knee bent, exposing the soft length of her thigh that his shirt had previously concealed. Jon’s free hand moved on its own accord and gently threaded on her skin, moving the hem upwards in the process, cupping the flesh of her belly, and the undercrease of her breasts. 

He groaned. 

While Arya’s stomach hasn’t yet swelled, her breasts and hips seemed to have filled beautifully with this child, and it didn’t take long for Jon to notice at all. Oh they made love quite frequently as it is, but shortly before they confirmed that there was a second child on the way, he had already noticed the difference in her figure--and her libido has certainly increased as well. 

Arya shifted slightly, momentarily pausing his thoughts. But her shift only caused the unbuttoned part of the top to further expose her chest to him. 

Unable to help himself, Jon unbuttoned the shirt completely to feast upon the image of his wife. 

‘It’s always been her for me.’ 

‘Only her.’ 

‘Only she can make me loving one moment--and a starved dragon the next.’ 

‘Only her.’ 

Arya left her breasts uncovered, rosy pale peaks greeted him when he accomplished his task. She complained that her breasts were too tender to be constrained once they confirmed her pregnancy, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise to him. But truthfully, seeing Arya naked would always feel like the first time--his excitement had never waned, even after six years. After all, he did wait a very long time to have her like this. 

He carefully placed another kiss upon her full red lips before trailing down her neck to lick her breasts, which he resisted to suck with miraculous discipline. He truly didn’t want to wake her, but his inner beast was already furious and starved for more. 

Jon’s lips kissed the valley between her breasts like she was a goddess to be worshipped before he trailed down her stomach, annoyed at the hem of the simple white cotton panties that stalled his path. 

Again, very carefully, he removed the offending garment without further disturbing the goddess underneath him. 

Arya always liked to keep her privates neatly shaven, and today, it was soft and pristinely perfect upon his gaze, not that it wouldn’t have been perfect otherwise--since she was her. 

‘Only her.’ 

Jon adjusted himself to lay on the side, his hips facing her shoulders, and he bent both of her knees to spread open before kissing the flesh of her privates. 

He moaned. 

Jon always craved the taste that she rewarded his tongue when she was pleased, her scent has always been addictive to him. 

He slowly parted the slit of her flesh with his long velvety tongue and licked softly, desperate to taste the honey between her legs. He swirled his tongue on her nub the way he knew she liked, even if he was upside down. 

It took a few moments, and the sound of her flesh slopping in his mouth occupied the room for sometime before he felt her thrust against his mouth. 

Arya’s hand rubbed his back before squeezing his backside teasingly. 

“Well, hello.” she moaned. 

Jon lifted from her momentarily to find her eyes half open, a welcoming smile upon her lips. Jon took the opportunity to slide two of his fingers inside of her, eliciting another long, beautiful moan.

“I missed you.” he whispered. 

“I can tell.” she answered. 

Jon didn’t leave her gaze before he spent some spit to fall from his lips and onto the slit that his digits have invaded, further coating her already dripping cunt. 

Arya bit her lips at the image and palmed his tented pants before she unbuckled his belt. 

“I missed you too.” 

She moved to lay on her side so Jon could feast on her more comfortably, and before long, she had him inside her own mouth too. 

Jon’s length was impressive, but Arya never backed down from a challenge. She always tried to take him in as deep as she could without choking uncomfortably. 

While Arya’s tight wet mouth around his cock was heavenly, Jon knew that his pleasure was mostly from having her wet pussy in his mouth. He was determined to swallow every bit of her as she rocked her hips on his jaw and a forefinger teased the wet tight bud between her ass cheeks. 

“Jon--I’m close…” she whimpered as her hips continued to ride his face powerfully. 

“Come for me…” he answered, not ceasing his movements. “Please, Arya, please…”

She did--with a glorious cry, and like he vowed to himself, he drank every bit of her, his face was moist with her pleasure. He knew that his own climax would come within moments so he gently pulled out of her mouth after she had come down.

“Hmm?” she posed, and he enjoyed the sight of the afterglow blush on her cheeks. 

Jon moved up to kiss her full on the mouth, not shying to give her as much tongue as he could, making her taste her own juices. 

“I want you.” he whispered as he sucked on her earlobe. 

“I want you too.” she answered, and adjusted her legs for him. 

Jon teased her nub with the tip of his cock before placing her legs on his hips to mount her. 

Jon fucked her slowly, delaying his own pleasure as he watched her pussy part with his own cock. Her breasts bounced gorgeously with each thrust, making his desire for her increase ten times fold despite the fact that he was already buried deep inside of her. 

“I want to suck on them so badly…” he declared hoarsely.    
  
Arya moaned, watching herself impaled on him too. “Soon--I promise…” 

“You drive me so--so mad.” he whispered, before his hips increased rhythm. 

Arya’s next few moans were all too familiar for him, he knew that her next peak wasn’t far, and he didn’t want to finish before she reached it, but his rhythm had to remain. 

He sucked on a thumb before circling her nub again, and after several erratic thrusts, as soon as she threw her head back and screamed his name--he allowed himself to fill her until he was completely drained. 

Jon fell beside her, and she was quick to catch him. He palmed her belly and sighed on her shoulder. 

“How are you?” 

Arya laughed. “Since last night? Nothing new. Still fucking pregnant with your kid.” 

Jon laughed in turn and kissed her longingly. “I love you, do you know that?” 

Arya rolled her eyes. “When you wake me up like that--I am reminded constantly.” she teased. 

“No--but… I love you. I love coming home to you.” Jon pulled her into his embrace then. “I love my life with you.” 

Arya pinched his side. “You always get so emotional after you’re spent.” 

Jon kissed her hair and inhaled deeply. 

“I know you’re not happy about having to move our family to the big castle, Jon.” she whispered feeling his unease then. “No matter where we are, we’re going to be alright.” 

Jon stayed silent and continued to play with her hair. 

“I’m not happy about it either--but, we’ve always made things work. No one believed--at one point myself included, by the way--that we would actually be where we are now. But here we stand--or lay..." she managed to tease. "We have our days but we’re happy, and it’s not because of Summerhall, or because of the contract we signed on that plane, or anything else, it’s because of you and me.” 

Jon sighed. “If Aegon never has heirs…”

“We will worry about it then.” Arya answered. “What Egg does with his life is not in anyone’s control, Jon. Besides, would you really want to force your brother to marry just so he could issue legitimate heirs? You weren’t subjected to such a thing, why should he? Why shouldn’t he be given the opportunity to find a love like ours? Your birthright is heavy enough as it is, add all this archaic bullshit and it’s even worse--especially for the heir.” 

“It’s no use to worry about something that hasn’t happened yet, Jon. Moving to the Red Keep will not change us, it’ll just be more tedious since it’s right by the city. No matter what, in no matter what house, we have each other to come home to.” 

Jon lifted her chin to meet her gaze then. “This. This is why I love you.” 

Arya raised a brow. 

“I haven’t said a single word and you just know exactly what to say to me. You always get me to talk, to unveil everything so easily. You’ve done this throughout our entire friendship and it continues to this very day. I cannot be more grateful that you still chose to accept me despite the heavy name that I came with.” 

“Heavy name--you cocky shit.” Arya teased. “My family had a name too, you might remember.” 

“Yeah--but you carry mine now.” Jon answered. “Last I checked, you took it for a lifetime.” 

Arya rolled her eyes again. “Apparently so.” she moved to kiss his cheek to get up but his hand stilled her. 

“What?”

“Just a little bit longer.” he asked. 

Arya smiled. Since he used those words in Braavos six years ago, it has been their little code for when they wanted to spend some more moments in each other’s company--often times without a single word. 

“You sure?” she asked. 

Jon nodded. 

“Alright, we can nap I suppose.” Arya muttered. “I was going to freshen up a bit because--” 

Arya trailed her curved forefinger on his muscled torso, slightly pinching the curve on the v-shape of his hip. 

Jon raised an eyebrow. “Really?” 

Arya scrunched her face. “Nah, you seem too tired old man. We can nap and then--” 

Jon tickled her playfully then, eliciting some squeals before kissing her lovingly on the mouth to start showing her how much he desired her once again. 

“Arya?”

“Hmm?”

“I do love you. Very much.” 

Arya smiled, cupping his jaw. “I love you, too.” 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Comments are forever life**
> 
> I used to be a little butthurt that I don't get as many kudos or views, but learned that writing here is really mostly to have a creative outlet anyway. So to everyone who always cares and leaves comments, thank you! 
> 
> 1.) Daenerys is not related to Jon in this fic.   
> 2.) Children's POV will be next chapter. I just decided to add this as a bonus.:)   
> 3.) I already know what happens to the main storyline, it's just that sometimes background stories distract me and I have to write those out too.   
> 4.) It will be another while for the next chapter--unless I'm lying again, apparently and a mood visits me. 
> 
> As always, I love you guys and thank you for taking the time to read. 
> 
> Always, 
> 
> Meesh


	4. Oathbreaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Jon continues to admonish himself--until he is visited by the last person in the world he could even dream about coming to his aid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Okay, I'm a total lying mess._
> 
> But I hope you enjoy this chapter for significant progression purposes.

**PRESENT**

Arya has been gone two nights and Jon felt lonelier than ever. Edward and Jace left the following morning for camp with Sam’s sons and he decided to spend his own holiday in Dragonstone, away from more questions that he didn’t want to know the answer to. 

Aegon offered to stay with him, but Jon gave him leave and chose to only take Davos and his little family. Davos has been widowed for ten years and had grown sons of his own before he met Elia Stone, Edward’s former schoolteacher. Together, they adopted two little girls named Emily and Alanna.

Jon refused to see more write-ups about his life’s current situation and Davos knew better than to forward any requests from renowned networks requesting for official comment. The standard statement, ‘The Summerhall House will not issue a statement regarding the matter.’ has been issued four times since the incident close to a month and a half ago. 

It gave him little comfort to know that he will be reunited with his wife in less than five days, for they had been committed to attending the No Barriers annual carnival fundraiser in the Vale. Especially after their last physical conversation with each other. 

Arya said goodbye to their boys, promising to return all the letters that they’d send to Clegane Keep and later the Eyrie. After breakfast and the boys were sent to pack their items with the nannies, Jon insisted on walking Arya to the car that will take her to the airport.

In the driveway, Jon boldly took Arya’s hand after she gave him a curt nod and courteous peck on the cheek to say goodbye. 

_“Will you text me as soon as you land?” Jon asked, desperate for something to say._

_Arya nodded. “You will know where I am.”_

_“Arya…” Jon whispered. “I--”_

_It was then when his wife gripped his hand in return and stared him dead in the eye._

_Her look remained empty._

_His chest ached._

_“I hear you, but I cannot find the strength to listen.” she said truthfully._

_“Love, I--”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“You don’t understand.” Arya answered. “I feel nothing.”_

_Jon felt his eyes cloud but waited for her to speak further, no matter how much her words wounded him._

_“I manage to smile and laugh for the children, but I haven’t truly felt--anything.” Arya continued. “I have never pretended in front of you, nor do I ever intend to. But I wish--I wish I could feel something. I wish I were angry with you, I wish I felt sorry for you, I wish I could listen to what you have to say and believe you again, I wish--” she paused, seemingly exhausted._

_“Right now, you’re standing here--in front of me, and you’re holding my hand--but I feel absolutely nothing for you.”_

Jon spent his first day in Aegon’s keep at the stables, distracting himself with a ride in the woodlands. Davos informed him that his old professor turned friend Jeor Mormont had phoned and expressed a desire to visit but Jon declined for the meantime and chose to retire to the library for more solace. 

A knock on the door interrupted his reverie. “I’m not hungry, Ser Davos.” 

“Well it’s a good thing I didn’t bring food.” A familiar voice answered as the wooden double doors opened. 

Robb Stark stood in front of him proudly, with an 8 pack of their favorite beer, Northman Blacks in his hand. Once his very best friend turned into a reluctant brother-in-law, Robb was certainly the last person in the world he expected to be in his support at the moment. 

“You look terrible.” Robb noted as he took a seat on the leather couch across from him. “I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t announce my visit.” 

Jon swallowed his disbelief, unsure whether to get up from his chair to join him. 

Robb seeked his eyes and shook his head. “I would go over there and kick your ass--but I can see that my sister has already done it for me well enough.” 

Jon stayed silent and for the first time in days felt a thumping across his chest.

He was unsure of how to express his gratitude for Robb’s presence, for if he opened his mouth he knew tears would soon follow. He instead placed both his elbows on the desk and covered his mouth with joined hands, hoping that the threatening moisture from his own eyes would cease. 

“Are you going to make me drink these by myself?” Robb furthered as he twisted a bottle cap off. “These are Northman Blacks, Your Highness. Blasphemy.” 

Unable to control his shoulders from shaking, Jon finally spoke. “Robb--I’m…” 

Robb looked at him with the sincere sympathy that pained him to feel. Jon knew in true that he deserved no sympathy for his undoing--especially from the man who gave it to him freely now. 

He didn’t deserve Robb’s presence. 

He didn’t deserve his support.

But damn the seven hells did he need it. 

Tears finally fell across his cheeks and Robb immediately strode across the room and draped a strong arm across his shoulder. 

“Come on, mate.” Robb muttered. “Come on.” 

\------

No words were exchanged between them for sometime, the only sounds that occupied the library were Jon’s soft mournful sobs and the rustling sound of Robb’s strong supportive palm rubbing the back of his shirt. 

When Jon calmed after a while, Robb ordered some roast beef sandwiches to be served and asked Davos to ensure that they were not to be disturbed. 

“Why your council thought that Arya’s holiday should be spent at Clegane’s Keep is well beyond me.” Robb teased. “They do know--that Sansa lives there, right?” 

Jon managed to smile. “They said something about Lord Clegane’s birthday celebration--a good excuse, I suppose. Besides, Arya and Sandor always got along well.” 

“As she does anyone that she comes across.” Robb noted. “Worry not, I volunteered my own wife as tribute--Margaery is on the way to the Clegane’s too.” 

Jon cast his eyes low and shook his head. “Robb--I don’t deserve your support.” 

“You don’t.” Robb answered. “Yet here I am.” 

“Once upon a time I considered you my brother. I don’t think I ever stopped despite--well.” Robb continued. “Our friendship isn’t the same, but you have proven my misjudgement over the years. As much as I fought it then, you and Arya truly belong to one another.” 

“You still say that now?” Jon dared to ask. “How can you--after…” 

“Forgiveness is a complex thing.” Robb muttered. “You might believe that I’m being unjustly merciful--but you’ve always punished yourself quite brutally--especially when it comes to her. Let’s just say--as a married man myself, who’s been forgiven more than a handful of times, that I see the bigger picture.” 

“You--” 

“I was never unfaithful, no.” Robb clarified. “But I am imperfect and subject to mistakes that almost ended my own marriage. Details of which, have and will remain with me, my wife, and our therapist. Do not be cruel to yourself, however--your birthright and the spotlight that it is attached to is not your fault--you’re provided almost no option for privacy, really.” 

Jon nodded. He made a mental note to bring up the option of hiring a therapist should his wife ever give him another chance. 

He missed her so much.

Jon leaned back against his chair and popped another bottle open, looking as defeated as ever.

“If you ask me--you’ve never been unfaithful either.” Robb sterned. “A straight lying git, but you weren’t unfaithful.”

“Robb--I was…” Jon protested.

_I was unfaithful--I'm not going to hide behind a technicality._

“I know what happened. I spoke to her at Winterfell. Like everyone else, I didn’t need confirmation once all the pieces were put together. Lucky for you, I’m not here to ask for a personal comment. I have confidence that you told her everything since...” 

Jon nodded and tried to escape the memory of his last real conversation with Arya. 

“Everything.” Jon answered truthfully. 

“Then my belief stands.” Robb firmed. “I only have about--four of these packs left. If I’m staying for two more evenings, we should send out for some more. You have a lot of unloading to do.”

Jon glanced at him--unsure whether to hug him or start crying again for the gratitude he felt in his heart.

“You--are the very last person that I could even dream about expecting today.” Jon declared, voice shaking again. “I don’t deserve your understanding, much so your support--but…” 

“Oh come on! Stop that.” Robb scoffed. “You want two grown, stunningly handsome men sobbing like ugly children in here?” 

Jon finally managed a small laugh--his first sincere expression of any kind of joy in the last month and a half. 

“There you go.” Robb chided. “Just--give it time. She’s justifiably heartbroken, and I will not take that away from her--but no matter what happens, I’ll be here for the both of you.” 

“You’ll stand by an oathbreaker?” Jon asked. 

**FLASHBACK** **  
** **Three Days After Jon’s Proposal**

After spending two blissful and somewhat shy and uncharacteristically bashful days with Arya, her parents and younger siblings, Jon knew he needed to get to work immediately. The King’s Office handled all the paperwork as far as the confidentiality agreement and they were endlessly prepped for the following weeks to come. Arya insisted on returning to Braavos in order to resign from her job appropriately, as scheduled which he supported in full. 

Sansa lived in Lannisport with her boyfriend Joffrey and Jon decided to send Sam over as soon as he had his own conversation with his best friend, Robb.

Robb was due to spend dinner with the family in order to spend time with Arya before she departed for Braavos. He was still under the impression that Arya was going to further her career overseas.

Everything changed just a little under 48 hours ago. 

It took Jon a long time to finally acknowledge his feelings for Arya. So when he made the decision to act upon them--he was all too confident about how he would proceed. It was her. It’s always been her. They were inevitable.

Jon knew, however--that this impending confrontation with Robb was part of the ordeal. He dreaded this part--but he owed it to his best friend to face him like a man. 

“Robb’s car just passed the gates, he’s parking.” Eddard Stark announced as he hung up his cell phone. “He will proceed here. Maybe we should give the boys a chance to talk after we exchange greetings?” He directed the question towards his wife. 

Jon, Arya, Ned and Catelyn lounged under the outdoor gazebo for the afternoon to await Robb’s arrival. 

“Are you sure he doesn’t know yet?” Catelyn asked. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Bran or Rickon had let it slip by now.” 

“Absolutely certain, because he seemed to be in good spirits when he called just now.” Ned answered with an eyebrow raised at Jon, who nodded curtly. “The boys know their brother well enough to not deliver such news, Cat.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Arya declared. “This big brother bullcrap is looming much larger than it should--I’m twenty-four years old! I lived across the world for almost four years--” 

“Language, Arya!” Catelyn hissed. 

“Mum, I literally said ‘crap.’” Arya snapped. “I would’ve said bullshit if--”

It was Jon who placed his hands on her shoulders then. He bent down and spoke softly in her ear. 

“I’ll take care of it.” He whispered with a finality she knew she’d be impolite to deny. “Believe it or not--this part is between me and your brother.” 

_“You can’t be serious.” Robb exclaimed as he served the tennis ball. “Knock it off.”_

_Jon laughed in turn, determined to keep the mood light. “And if I am?”_

_Robb shook his head and answered Jon’s swing per his own at Winterfell’s own indoor tennis court. “You know what we haven’t done in a while? Wintertown. Not as many tourists this season, we should head out tonight.”_

_“You know what we have never done?” Jon replied nervously, not taking his eyes off the green ball. “Talk about this.”_

_“Jon, knock it off.” Robb muttered as he halted the ball to hit the net. “Gods, I’m thirsty.”_

_Jon followed him to the water table where they both took fresh towels that were laid out for them and took swigs from their canteens._

_“So--what about it? Wintertown then?” Robb asked. “Greyjoy is in town…”_

_Jon stayed silent beside him and the question remained in his eyes._

_Robb sighed. “Will you drop it?”_

_“Would me dating Arya really be that bad? I’m your best friend.” Jon answered. “You’ve seen our own friendship grow throughout the years--”_

_“To a sickening point, yes…” Robb interjected._

_“And you said it yourself, she’ll start dating eventually. You expressed full support when she wanted to go with that Dayne boy so easily--”_

_“Dayne is not my bestfriend who’s been around her since she was a toddler with scabbed knees and wild hair.” Robb answered then. “So what are you thinking? You’d date my sister for a couple of years and then move on--”_

_“Move on from what?” Jon asked._

_“Don’t be stupid. She’s barely turned eighteen, I don’t even want to think about how long you’ve been--” Robb shuddered. “Alright, you want to lay this out?”_

_“Yes I do.” Jon replied confidently. “What’s so bad about me wanting to date Arya?”_

_“You won’t understand--you don’t have a little sister that I could present myself to and ask how you’d feel about it--”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“You’re one of the best men I know.” Jon declared. “If I had a little sister and you loved her--I wouldn’t see any issue…”_

 _“Mate, come on!” Robb hissed. “You can’t say that--you don’t actually have a sister to--”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Do you not think of me as honorable? Decent?” Jon asked then._

_“Honorable, decent, with integrity yes--but that impulsive head of yours will be your undoing. Consider the fact that you’d be bringing her into the spotlight--”_

_“You’ll refuse your blessing on the count of my birthright?” Jon retorted. “Does that not scream injustice to you?”_

_“How did this even become a real conversation?” Robb answered. “How did this--first, it was you two falling asleep on random couches together--you giving her that stupid sweater from school to wear around the house--”_

_“It’s always sat at the back of my mind but--”_

_“Well then keep it there until it goes away.” Robb spat._

_Jon’s shoulders dropped. “I can’t believe that you would--”_

_“Have you even thought about what could happen if things don’t work out between the two of you? Think you’d stay friends? Think WE’D stay friends? Some things are meant you be left as they are--”_

_“We won’t break up.” Jon spat back. “It’s Arya--she’s… She’s always been…”_

_Robb lost patience--he turned, grabbed his racket and took a fresh ball from the case._

_“Best of three.” Robb called. “If I win--you will do what you have to do to have these thoughts of yours resigned, and I never want to hear about them again. This game will be cemented in this space and time until we can revisit it with laughter.”_

_Jon stepped up to the plate, determinedly. “And if I win?”_

_Robb smirked. “You won’t.”_

_Robb won two to nothing._

“There she is! My favorite sister.” Robb beamed as he walked through the door. Arya cautiously kissed his cheek and he proceeded to greet his own parents affectionately. 

“Hey! I knew you’d be here!” Robb greeted Jon, who gladly took his hand. “I’m a bit early for dinner, I know. What did I miss?” 

“You can’t say she’s your favorite sister, Robert.” Catelyn scolded. “Sansa may not be here but--”

“Alright then, my favorite sibling!” Robb countered with another kiss on Arya’s head. 

Catelyn managed to shake her head with a small, nervous chuckle. 

The rest of them stayed silent. 

“I did miss something, didn’t I?” Robb muttered. “What’s going on?” 

“Alright.” Ned motioned for his wife and daughter to exit with him. “The two of you--settle this like men, is that understood?” 

“Settle WHAT like men?” Robb asked then. 

Arya seeked Jon’s eyes--who nodded curtly. She proceeded to give Robb a small hug before she joined her parents to exit the gazebo. “I’ll see you for dinner.” 

Robb’s face darkened almost immediately after they exited. They both remained standing, neither were willing to break the silent staredown, which seemed to have lasted a lifetime. 

“I thought we settled this a long time ago.” Robb warned. 

Jon met his stare with a resigned but determined look upon his face. “We should take a walk.” 

They walked together in silence until they reached the tennis court. 

“I don’t owe you a rematch.” Robb noted while they both started folding the sleeves of their shirts.

“Consider this a new challenge then.” Jon answered solemnly.

“You went behind my back.” Robb seethed. “You bloody fucking went behind my back after we settled this and went after her.” 

Jon stayed silent. 

“It’s no question that she loves you--but you didn’t have to take it to this length.” Robb continued. “She would do anything that you asked of her...”

“And I for her…” 

“Fuck you!” Robb exclaimed. “I once though you were honorable--”

“Robb…”

“And I’m supposed to be your best mate? So what--now that you’ve managed to get my parents’ blessing and hers--no matter how much I fucking told you that this was a bad idea--what now? Are you going to string her along like you did Daenerys for years until--” 

“I asked her to marry me.” Jon declared. 

Robb saw red.

“What?” 

“She accepted.” Jon continued. “Robb for years--you know I’ve tried… I can’t deny my feelings any longer--”

Robb took two steps before an impulsive jab striked Jon right on his cheek. 

This caused the latter to fall back, but he remained standing. 

“Fight.” Robb challenged. “Bloody fucking traitor, fight!” 

Jon stayed silent and kept his hands down. He tasted a bit of blood inside his mouth but kept his composure. He didn’t waver from Robb’s murderous gaze. 

“Like men, Robb--best of three.” he offered after some moments. 

“So you could go and betray the settlement six years later?” Robb countered.

“You won’t win--not this time.” Jon answered. 

“It’s no use.” Robb hissed. “It was my mistake. I played an honor-bound game with an oathbreaker.” 

The insult hit him like a bullet to the chest. “Robb…”

“I will stand by my sister and my family--I’ll play my part.” Robb declared. “Make no mistake about it. But hear this now; I withhold my blessing from this union on the count of the knife wound on my back.”

“Robb--this wasn’t about you--”

“What hurts about betrayal is that it never comes from enemies.” Robb continued before he walked off.

**PRESENT**

_“An oathbreaker?”_

“Stop that.” Robb countered. “You deserved that name a long time ago but I wouldn’t call you that now…”

“You saw me for who I was--so you knew I didn’t deserve her…” 

“Quit groveling, mate.” Robb muttered. “Stop punishing yourself, it will do you no good.” 

“I never should have put myself in a position where I could be--” 

“And I never should have got in the way of you wanting to pursue Arya romantically.” Robb declared. 

Jon stopped then and looked up at him. 

“Once the news broke out--I thought about it.” Robb confessed. “Things would be a lot different now, don’t you think? But then I thought--I brought my sister some years to grow up and get to know herself before she settled with you--so…”

“Jon, we all have things that we wish we could take back.” Robb continued. “But we are all human and we all make mistakes. Forgiveness is not beyond the both of you. Despite my sentiments about the matter back then, more than ever--know that I am hoping that the two of you will work this out and come out stronger in the end.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **YOUR COMMENTS GOT THIS CHAPTER RELEASED A LOT FASTER THAN WHAT I WOULD'VE THOUGHT, SO THANK YOU AND KEEP IT COMING!**
> 
> 1.) I decided that Robb's full title in this fic is _HSH Lord Robert Stark, The Earl of Winterlands, heir apparent to the Dukedom of Winterfell_ ( I edited this when I saw the question--I might change Winterlands--possibly. I couldn't decide on the perfect subsidiary title)
> 
> 2.) I obviously decided to delay the children's chapter. I will no longer make a promise of when that would be, like I mentioned--the outline of this story is done, but I thought I'd give you guys more insight through background stories. 
> 
> 3.) Kissing the Kingslayer will be updated next, so please don't expect another chapter so soon! (I know I lied the last two times--but I'm in a better mood now, and KK is such a lighthearted fun, romantic fic so I need to spend this type of energy on that.) 
> 
> 4.) Timelines: Guys, please be warned--I will make a plothole mistake somewhere because of how much I play with the time here--but trust that I can make corrections if you bring it up--if it's super important to you--however--if I don't find that it changes the story significantly we'd probably just have to live with certain holes. 
> 
> As always, I love you guys, I do. Thank you for allowing me to write for you because it gives me something to look forward to in this mundane life of mine. 
> 
> follow me on tumblr: **MischaPetrovna** I can't promise I'll do every prompt request but I love ideas! 
> 
> Love always,  
> Meesh
> 
> PS: JG should make an account. :)

**Author's Note:**

> **PLEASE LEAVE ME COMMENTS! :)**   
>  _Should I continue this? Be honest._
> 
> I also love reading what you think! Dissect away!
> 
> Unlike my other fics, I may or may not respond to comments for the sake of not spoiling anything.  
> Be warned, my updates won't be as fast for this one. 
> 
> **Also:** If you're waiting for the final update of "Song," fret not! It's still in the works--spoiler: I know what happens--I just can't decide how to write it out! 
> 
> Hi Shelly and JG!


End file.
